Quotes About Experience

Inside every seventy-year-old is a thirty-five-year-old asking, 'What happened?

Know when to tune out, if you listen to too much advice you may wind up making other peoples mistakes.

Life is a journey without reliable tour guides. You made plans and then you got distracted and took detours that proved to be dull, disastrous, or wonderful, or a combination of all three. – Josie Navarre (heroine)

If I had to offer up a one sentence definition of addiction, I'd call it a form of mourning for the irrecoverable glories of the first time...addiction can show us what is deeply suspect about nostalgia. That drive to return to the past isn't an innocent one. It's about stopping your passage to the future, it's a symptom of fear of death, and the love of predictable experience. And the love of predictable experience, not the drug itself, is the major damage done to users.

What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

if you think about one memory for most of a day, is that not your present? Some people live in the now; some people prefer to reside in the past—either choice is valid.

Mark Twain quote about how the only reason for time is so everything doesn't happen at once? I feel like everything that's ever happened in my life is happening

They want to share something extraordinary about themselves, because you've experienced something extraordinary.

The passage of time, and the details that spun some moments into unforgettable memories and others into thin air, traveled with Sylvie--the swirling atmosphere of her own life--while she walked.

What happened is baked into your bones, ...It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

If you live long enough, everything is complicated.

What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be a part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

She had screwed up, not him. It made her sad that her vast experience, even her marathon dances with men, hadn't left her any the wiser.

John gestures with his hand again, this time seeming to refer to everything: the photographs, the letters, middle age, marriage. "If you live long enough, everything is complicated

after her honeymoon. Maybe.

What do you want? Sylvie wouldn't have asked this question before, because she would have been afraid of the answer, but she wanted to be deeply and truly herself and to experience the world in the deepest and truest way.

they're contained in their bodies, in the biographical facts of their lives.

ringing all the bells of adulthood.

What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on is learning to live with that.

Time doesn't make a full life. Living your life to the fullest makes it full.

Her voice had a thin thread of sadness running through it that made the song important, that made it tell a story that wasn't in the words – a story of despair, of loneliness, of frustration. It was a story that all of them knew by heart and had always known because they had learned it soon after they were born and would go on adding to it until the day they died.

the crap game in progress in the middle of the block, the scraps of obscene talk she heard as she passed the poolroom, the tough young boys with their caps on backward who swaggered by, were things that she saw with the eyes of an adult and reacted to from an adult's point of view. It was impossible to know how this street looked to eight-year-old Bub.

to the enjoyments of a writer of romance, conscious of inventive power. If in the mere perusal of novels we lose our painful sense of the realities of "this unimaginable world," and delightedly participate in the sorrows, the joys, and the struggles of the persons, how far more intensely must an authoress like Mrs. Radcliffe feel that outgoing of the heart, by which individuality is multiplied, and we seem to pass a hundred lives!

what yesterday affected us strongly, is to-day but imperfectly felt, and to-morrow perhaps shall be disregarded.